


After-After-Party

by flerkenkiddingme



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Classical Musicians AU, F/F, also they're sharing clothes, daddy issues galore, idk if that's a tag but now it is, mainly fluff, very light angst but whatcha gonna do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flerkenkiddingme/pseuds/flerkenkiddingme
Summary: “You absolute bastard,” Korra shook her head as he stepped out of the car. “You never told me you knew her before!”“Look, if you guys are going to fight, I’ll call someone else.” Mako didn’t meet either of their eyes.“Who’s fighting? We’re getting along perfectly fine. I’m mad that you never introduced us sooner!”Asami wants out of the stuffy end-of-recital party, but an unusual transportation method gives her a better night than she planned for.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 8
Kudos: 113





	After-After-Party

Asami was getting really sick of being a show pony.

The after-party for everyone’s recitals had only started 15 minutes ago, but she already wanted out. She knew how these things went. The president, Mrs. Moon, had already given her congratulatory speech to all the performers, and her husband went around clapping them on the back and proclaiming that they were “the shining stars of the academy.” What a bunch of bull. The Republic City Academy of Music hadn’t even sold out the venue tonight. Asami’s own father hadn’t been able to make it to watch her piano performance. But that didn’t surprise her a bit.

Every time an important piano event rolled around, Hiroshi would tell Asami that he was holding out hope to see her. And every time, just before she left, he would tell her the business needed him late, and that he’d definitely be there next time. The last performance he’d been able to see was in May, and now September had just ended. She was tired of attention from the wrong people, and desperate for attention from the right one.

After the food came in, she’d fired a quick text to Mako, took a slice of cake, and headed out to the bench outside the front door, where she decided to wait and idly play White Tiles 4 until he arrived. Concert nights used to be great when Hiroshi could still be there. They would turn it into a father and daughter night, with brownies from the bakery across from the academy building and round after round of their favorite games. But now, despite being only eight miles away, Asami felt she was living on a separate continent from him.

Her fingers flew across the screen, raising her score by five tiles per second. Her piece tonight had also required some fast playing, one of her musical strengths. It was calming to her, just letting her hands do the work and allowing her mind to drift. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept circling back to her father. Asami hated holding grudges, but one was growing slowly and silently inside her like an infection.

She knew that Mako sometimes drove like a senior citizen, but couldn’t he hurry it up?

The academy’s front door clicked open, and out came a cello on wheels, followed by a girl Asami had seen perform a few people before her own show. In the recital, the girl had been wearing a long, dark purple dress, but she had exchanged it for a blue and white sherpa jacket and grey sweatpants. Her wavy brown hair, which had been in an elegant bun before, was now in a low, messy ponytail. Asami vaguely remembered Mrs. Moon calling out her name after her performance, but she couldn’t remember it for the life of her. Courtney something, maybe?

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here?” Cello Girl asked, pointing at the bench.

“Oh, sure,” Asami moved her legs off of the open area to let her in. She expected Cello Girl to sit on the farthest end, but she moved her instrument to the end and sat in the middle facing Asami. 

“I just want to say that I saw you on the piano tonight, and you were freaking amazing,” she said. “This might be weird since we don’t totally know each other yet, but I was there and it was so cool.”

“It’s not weird at all, thank you,” Normally Asami wasn’t fazed when strangers told her how good she was, but this praise warmed her inside more than usual. Cello Girl had seemed more genuine in her expression than even Mrs. Moon. “If we don’t totally know each other yet, now’s better than never. My name’s Asami Sato.” She held her hand out and the other girl shook it. 

“I remember. I overheard Mrs. Moon’s husband talking about you. Complimenting you, not like gossiping or anything.” She switched to a whisper. “I can’t be the only one who thinks he’s drinking wine with his punch tonight, because he’s been so loud all night.”

Asami chuckled softly. “I can’t tell if he’s normally like that or if he’s partying a little too hard tonight.”

They both giggled. “Sorry, I never caught your name, though,” Asami felt bad for not asking earlier.

“Oh, whoops! It’s Korra. Korra Arnook. And speaking of partying hard,” Korra pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. “I asked my ex to give me a ride to my friend’s party tonight twenty minutes ago, and he still hasn’t showed up. I swear, he drives like my great aunt Yue.”

“I feel your pain,” Asami opened her phone. Still nothing from Mako. 

“Hey, want to come with me?” Korra perked right up. “It’ll be so much fun. You looked a bit down when I saw you earlier, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to invite you.”

“That’s really nice of you, but my ride is on his way too. He’s a pretty slow driver as well.”

“That’s cool. That’s totally your call,” Korra replied. She didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, just texting someone. Guilt twisted in Asami’s stomach. She had found herself enjoying Korra’s company. Not only was she a welcome distraction from brooding about her dad, but she was hoping to finally make a friend in the academy.

Asami’s phone vibrated in her coat pocket, jolting her back to reality. As she opened it, she heard loud barking from somewhere behind her. She whirled around, trying to find where it came from.

“Sorry, that was my phone,” Korra said sheepishly. “I set my dog Naga as my ringtone.”

“Aw, that’s cute. It just startled me, is all.” Asami replied to the I’m here message Mako finally sent. Korra’s phone barked again, and she opened it.

“Who’s that?” Korra muttered, replying back. Another text appeared to Asami, and then a thought occurred to her.

“Did you just reply to your ride?” Asami asked.

“Yeah, but someone else is there. I think he made it a group chat by accident.”

“Did you just ask ‘who did you add in here?’”

“Yes, why-” Asami held up her messages, where said text, verbatim, appeared in her messages with Mako.

“Your ex is my ride home,” she said. “And also my ex.”

Korra’s eyebrows shot up. “Son of a bitch.”

With comedic timing matched only by sitcoms, Mako’s Suzuki eased to a stop in front of the bench. 

“You absolute bastard,” Korra shook her head as he stepped out of the car. “You never told me you knew her before!”

“Look, if you guys are going to fight, I’ll call someone else.” Mako didn’t meet either of their eyes.

“Who’s fighting? We’re getting along perfectly fine. I’m mad that you never introduced us sooner!”

“Oh,” he said, regaining his confidence. Korra pushed her cello closer to the car. “Does this go in front or back?”

“Front. You two share the back.” Mako opened the passenger door and Korra lifted her instrument off its stand and into the seat, not even stumbling under its weight. Asami knew she was staring, but it was so surprising, and admittedly a bit hot, that someone could do that so easily.

Korra slipped the carrier for the cello into the car, then scooted into the backseat. Asami followed, and the Suzuki drove out of the parking lot.

Asami had made up her mind about her plans tonight. “So, since our travel arrangements were so similar,” she asked tentatively, “is the invitation to that party tonight still open?”

Korra looked shocked, but recovered quickly. “Yes. Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be awesome. You’re going to love it. You already know Mako, apparently, but we’re going to have you meet everyone else. It’ll be way more fun than that snore-a-thon.”

She leaned forward and tapped Mako’s shoulder. “Can I have the aux?”

“You had it on the way here. I’m not playing your gay punk music again.”

“So picky,” She rolled her eyes and turned to Asami. “You seem like someone with better taste. What music do you like?”

“I’m addicted to Hozier,” Asami admitted. “I’m considering picking one of his songs for my next performance. I’m still not sure which one, though.”

“Please do it, that would be amazing.”

“I think I just might. I love Mitski as well, she’s crazy talented.”

“For real!” Korra emphasized this point by slamming her hands on the middle seat. “Ever heard of Raveena?”

“Heard of her, yes. Listened to her, not yet.”

“She’s one of my absolute favorites. Give her a try, it’ll change your life. She’s good, Big Joanie is really good as well…” She kept raving about her favorite musicians, while Asami listened intently. She was so passionate and lively, and while Asami was never very extroverted, she and Korra just seemed to click. She was so wholly and unapologetically herself that Asami wished she’d known her for longer just so they would be able to understand each other completely. 

It seemed far too soon that Mako arrived at a house even larger than Asami’s. She recognized the neighborhood, as she had gone with her father to work on people’s cars here. Thinking of him again reignited some of the old resentment, but the feeling didn’t last long. Mako and Korra threw open the car doors and called for Asami to follow. She obliged, leaving behind all worries about her father and gearing up for a much better night.

A few guests sat smoking up in the front yard, wearing casual clothes and sneakers. With a start, Asami realized she was still in her red and gold concert gown. 

“Is there any way I can change clothes? I didn’t bring any street clothes since I thought I was just going home.”

“There’s probably something of mine upstairs you can borrow.” Korra shrugged. “I’m over here a lot, so the family pretty much lets me have a room for myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s no trouble at all,” She had only knocked on the door twice before it flew open. A shorter, muscular guy immediately pulled Korra, and then Mako, into a hug. 

“Thank La, you guys made it! How was the recital?” 

“Fine, but the after-party sucked so bad. At least I made a friend because of it,” Korra stepped back to Asami’s side. “Asami’s a wicked good pianist from the academy. And this is Bolin, he and his family live here with the Beifongs.”

“Great to have you here,” Bolin held up his hand for a high five. She gave him one and smiled. 

“Great to be here.”

“You have the key to the room with my stuff, right?” Korra asked him. He passed her a key, then looked at Asami. 

“Take a right on the third floor and it’s the third door on the left side.”

She thanked him, then followed his directions to find Korra’s room. It was thankfully empty, and had dozens of pictures and posters all over the teal walls. Many of them were pictures of Korra with her friends. Asami found herself looking at as many as she could find. They seemed to tell a story, one that she worried she would never experience for herself. With her father being away so often, and her only knowing a small handful of people from the academy, she was used to solitude. She usually found it comforting to be by herself, but looking at the photos made her nostalgic for something she never had.

Asami finally remembered she was supposed to be changing clothes, and opened the closet door to find a handful of shirts and pants scattered on the floor. She rooted through the pile until finally picking a black My Chemical Romance T-shirt and the longest pair of jeans in the pile.

There was a strange but pleasant-feeling intimacy in wearing someone else’s clothes, especially a cute girl’s clothes. But they fit Asami just fine. She studied her reflection, teasing her hair out of its fancy recital waves. She kept her sandals after a moment of deliberation. Borrowing someone’s spare clothes was one thing, but she drew the line at socks. 

On her way back to the party, a huge cheer rang out through the house. Asami noticed people crowding around a small group on the stage. A guy and a girl who looked a bit older than her were plugging in some amps, while another girl set up a drum kit that had “Zaofu’s Hailstorm” in spiky writing on the largest drum. The three of them were in similar metallic green and silver outfits.

Asami finally spotted Korra, in the middle of arm-wrestling Bolin. Her fluffy sherpa jacket was on the back of her chair, revealing a pale blue tank top and shockingly toned arms. Of course someone who could pick up a cello like it was nothing would be that jacked, but still, oh my La.

“There you are, Asami!” Bolin waved with his free hand. Korra didn’t move. “You’re not fooling me this time,” she said, almost pinning his arm down.

Asami responded by laying her hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh, it is you.” She looked Asami up and down, taking in the outfit she had picked. “Huh.”

“What’s wrong?” Asami couldn’t quite read her expression. Should she have picked different pants? Did the shoes not go?

“Nothing’s wrong. I… honestly, I forgot I owned those. But it really suits you.”

The second Asami opened her mouth to thank her, a drum solo sounded from the stage. The screaming of the guests increased, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mako and Bolin sneaking away from the girls and turning down the room lights. The only light was from the huge flashing spotlights.

“Ooh, they’re starting.” Korra stood up from her chair. “Want me to show you the best spot to watch?”

“Okay,” Asami agreed somewhat reluctantly. She didn’t want to go super close to the stage and leave the party half-deaf, but she was sure Korra would understand. She took Asami’s hand and, surprisingly, led her away from the stage and toward a door she hadn’t seen before.

“We’re going farther from them, just so you know.”

“Just trust me. I know this house better than most people down there.”

The door opened into a twisting staircase, which they followed until it led out into a hidden landing. It provided a perfect, high-up view of the band, and it wasn’t as incredibly loud as the floor had been.

“You know what? I absolutely get it now.” Asami leaned on the railing. “This is the best view in the house.”

“You mean you doubted me?” Korra tried for a defensive pose, but couldn’t suppress her big adorable grin. 

“Of course not.” The two sat against the wall and watched the rest of the song in silence. Asami didn’t know much about the hard rock they played, but she liked the front woman’s deep voice and how cool she sounded on guitar. 

The song ended after a minute or two, and during the applause, Korra spoke up again.

“What’d you think?”

“They’re awesome. You know them?”

“The drummer is Bolin’s girlfriend, Opal,” Korra pointed her out. “She’s so sweet, you guys would get along great. That’s her brother Bataar on the bass, and his girlfriend Kuvira’s the singer. I don’t hang out with them too often, since they’re almost always working downtown.”

“You seem to know everybody here,” Asami remarked.

“Not exactly everybody.” Korra scooted closer until her shoulders were brushing Asami’s. Small as the contact was, it still made Asami’s chest stutter a bit. 

“Then we should do something together again soon. How does tomorrow sound?”

Korra stiffened, and for a minute Asami feared she’d taken it too far. But then she responded.

“I’m open tomorrow afternoon. I think. I hope.”

“It’s a date then,” Asami took the other girl’s hand in hers, and rested her back against the wall as the next song began.

**Author's Note:**

> based on a genius post from tumblr users bymoonandfire and herglowinggirl.


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